Lows and Highs
by UhhhNo
Summary: Daria resolves the Tom thing. Takes place at the end of season four, disregarding IIFY.


Lows and Highs

Lows and Highs

  
  


By [Gabby][1]

  
  
  
  


Daria and all related titles, characters, and logos are © 1993-2001, MTV, a division of Viacom International, Inc. All rights reserved. Used without permission. This work of fiction is © 2001, Gabriella Patel, all rights reserved. If you wish to post this work on the internet or share it with friends, please email me at uhhhhhh_nooo@hotmail.com with the address of your site. It may be posted so long as my name and email address and the entire content of the story remain intact. 

I want to start off by saying that I haven't seen IIFY or Season 5 of Daria. I know that the ending of this story is in conflict with the begining of the movie, but it was the only way to make it work right with my opinions. I may or may not make this a stand-alone fic. It all depends on if I get to see the rest of Daria. *Ahem* Dad.

  
  


Act I  
Scene I

  
  


Int. Lawndale High, afternoon. Daria and Jane walk side-by-side down the halls, not speaking. Daria looks kind of tired, and Jane looks angry. Jane turns right, and enters a classroom. Daria pauses, looks puzzled, then walks to her locker, puts her stuff away, and continues on down the hall, and eventually walks out the side-door of the school. 

  


Scene II

  


Int. Morgendorffer home, afternoon. Daria walks in and puts her backpack in the hall closet, then stares at her sister, who is at home, sitting on the couch, rambling away on the telephone.

  


Quinn: And so Amber told Reily that Ryan had said that Jolina was interested in Bob, but in that friendly, not-so-shallow kind of way, but that Bob was interested in Amber, or so said Ryan, her second cousin twice-removed. Sooo, I think that Amber should be singled out and act as a catalyst in a situation of the same sort between Jolina and Ryan, because who KNOWS how RYAN found out about Jolina liking Bob! So, as I was saying before, if you put Aureal Know-it-all eyebrow pencil in Raging Rhodedendron on a person with skin color such as Amber, the person will end up looking like a FISH! And God knows fish don't know much at all, so-

  


Daria stands on the bottom stair, looking bemusedly at her sister. After a moment, she sighs and walks upstairs. Quinn looks up just as her door slams shut.

  


Quinn: Daria? Oh, well. I was going to ask her if she could have her geeky art friend tell us a better color to use on Jolina during the Amber situation. No, I know she's unpopular, but she has a detailed and unerring sense of color layers. Yes, I KNOW Ariel is an artist but just because she's your cousin's girlfriend doesn't mean that she's a viable family member and must therefore be included. I mean, look at me and my- cousin. I don't include her and she IS a viable family member. But then again, she's geeky, so the whole problem sort of cancels it self out, un-LIKE the problem with Bob and Jolina and all that chain- reaction thingy stuff. Gotta go! Bye. 

  


She hangs up and falls back against the couch cushion.

  


Quinn: Phew!

  


Scene III

  


Int. Daria's room. Daria is leaning up against the headboard of her bed, reading 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas', by Hunter S. Thompson. Quinn knocks.

  


Daria: How long before I start raving and jabbering at this girl? Will she know? (in a strained whisper) Can she hear me? 

  


Quinn: (while opening the door) Whatever, I don't have time for your mind games now, I- EEEEEW, DAARRIIAA!!

  


Quinn looks at the cover of the book, which depicts Johnny Depp looking like a Giraffe with a broken, twisted neck, and featuring a mottled face. 

  


Quinn: God, Daria, why do you read such freaky stuff?

  


Daria: You haven't seen the INside of the book, yet. 

  


Quinn: Ugh! Like I would want to. Any way, I need your help. I need you to ask that art person Jane or whatever to help us with this little color problem. 

  


Daria: Quinn, number one - I wouldn't ask Jane to do anything that I wouldn't do myself, and number two - She and I still really aren't talking to each-other yet. 

  


Quinn: But you asked her to forgive you for stealing and kissing her boyfriend, and you wouldn't have done it had she asked YOU, and it's no WONDER she isn't talking to you, she's afraid she'll come over and that TOM guy'll be here under your SHEETS or something, and- 

  


Daria's expression has gone from annoyed, to very sour, to very, VERY dark. 

  


Daria: Out. Now.

  
Quinn: But I- (she looks into Daria's eyes) Yeahrightbyenow!

  


She dashes out and slams the front door after her. The car starts up and takes off, tires screeching.

  


Daria: I'm a back-stabber. And a bitch. And I don't deserve Jane. 

  


Suddenly, her face lights up, as though she has reached some great conclusion, or had some great epiphany. Just as quickly, her face falls.

  


The phone rings. Daria ignores it. It rings again.

  


Daria: Quinn! Pick up the damn phone!

  


No answer. Daria sighs and answers.

  


Daria: Hello?

  


Tom: Hi, Daria. It's me.

  


Daria: Hi. Listen. Um, no.

  


Tom: Huh?

  


Daria: Just... no, okay? So stop calling me.

  


Tom: Daria, wait! What do you mean, 'no'?

  


Daria: I MEAN, no! No relationship, no let's-be-friends. Just no you. So back down, Tom.

  


Tom: Why? We had something. We had chemistry.

  


Daria: We HAD Jane. You lost her. I'm not going to lose her, too. I realize now that our friendship is too important. Without it, I might... I don't know what I'd do, Tom. I can't be with you. I need my friendship with Jane, right now. Relationships will have to wait. I'm growing up, Tom. And I don't like it one little bit. Everything's changing and I can't go back to the way I used to be. NOTHING will ever be the same. And right now, I haven't grown up enough to stop trying to put the pieces back together. And that's what I need to do right now. I need to pick up the shattered remnants of my childhood. Goodbye, Tom. Don't call me.

  


Tom: Wait! Daria, I-

  


Daria hangs up the phone and sits back down on her bed. After a moment, another quiet door slam can be heard. Daria doesn't move. For a few moments, she justs sits there on the edge of her bed. Then, a lone tear trickles out the corner of her eye.

  


Quinn stands just outside Daria's partially cracked door, looking down at her sister. Her carkeys are in her hand. She sighs quietly and begins to walk down the hall. At her door, she pauses.

  


Quinn: She was crying. Real tears. I've never seen her cry like that.

  


She sighs again, and goes into her room.

  
  


End Act I

Act II  
Scene I

  
  


Int. the kitchen. Daria's family are seated for dinner, Chinese Take-out. It looks delicious, and probably tastes that way, too. Unlike their parents, neither Daria nor Quinn is doing much more than shoving it around on their plates and trying to get the "perfect" fork twist of pasta.

  


Helen: So girls, did anything interesting happen today?

  


Both girls just sigh and shake their heads.

  


Jake: Aw, what's got you girls down?

  


Daria: (with bland, fake-enthusiastic voice) Nothing, oh, no, ABSOLUTELY... nothing.

  


Quinn: (same) Yeah. Nary a thing. Nope.

  


Helen: Okay, what's going on here? Are you talking to that Ted guy again, either of you?

  


Daria: His parents moved him out West so their crops would grow better.

  


Quinn: He left all his camera stuff at the school. How exciting.

  


Helen: Alright, I give up. Jake, what happened at work today?

  


Jake: Oh, not much. Nope, can't think of a thing.

  


Helen: Jeez, Jake, can't- Oh. You were kidding. 

  


Jake: (satisfied) Yep.

  


Helen: Yes. There certainly is some wierdness in here. (Suspicious glare) Coming from the girls.

  


Daria and Quinn don't react. After a few minutes, they get up, clear off their plates, and go upstairs.

  


Helen: Something strange sure is going on here.

  


Jake: As long as they aren't willing to talk about it, it't probably okay.

  


Helen looks at him funny, then nods.

  


Helen: Yes. I WILL agree that people only talk about their problems once they become so out of hand that they're overwhelmed by it. Take marriages, for example.

  


Jake looks at her funny.

  


Helen: Okay, yeah, bad example. Forget that. Heh.

  


Scene II

Int. Lawndale High, morning. Daria is walking down the hall. Jane walks a few feet behind her, again looking angry. Daria's face looks stoic, but her eyes betray defeat. Her shoulders sag as she trudges right out the door at the end of the hall. Jane turns the corner and heads into the art room and procedes to pulvarize a lump of clay.

  


Scene III

Ext. Lawndale High. Daria is walking up an exterior staircase. She opens a door at the top and walks down a hallway. At the end of the hallway is another door. It leads into a little-used corridor of the school, which looks dusty and empty. Daria enters yet another door, which leads to a staircase. At the top of the stairs is one more door. She opens it, and it leads to the roof of the school.

  


Daria: Ah, tar and kitchen exhaust fumes. Finally, some quiet.

  


She sits on the floor next to a ventilator shaft exit, pointedly ignoring Andrea and two other goths sitting on the other side of the roof, as well as the smoke clouds rising above them. She pulls Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas out of her backpack and begins to read.

  


After a moment, she turns around to see that the goths are looking at her. They break into a fit of giggles, and she rolls her eyes and keeps on reading.

  


Scene IV

Ext. Lawndale High, roof. Daria looks up, sees the sky darkening, and looks at her watch.

  


Daria: (thinking) my head feels funny. Oh. Oh, damn. Stupid goths and their damn weed. Gotta get... gotta get off the roof. Um... doorway!

  


She giggles for a moment, and then stands and walks stiffly to the exit door. She pulls on the handle. It's stuck. She sees something shiny stuck between the doorjam and the door itself. Upon closer inspection, it's a quarter. She tries to tug it out, but it's no use. 

  


Daria: Damn goths. Penny-lock me onto a roof, will they? Well, I'll show them. (pause) Just as soon as this hangover goes away. (pause) Still waiting. (pause) Damn.

  


She walks around the sides of the roof, looking for an exit. Finding none, she sighs, and sits down in sight of the door.

  


Daria: A cellphone would be handy right about.... now. (pause; amiably) Damn, again.

  


She takes a sandwich out of her bag and begins to munch. She finishes, then puts the bag away. After awhile, she begins to shiver a bit, so she pulls her sweatshirt out of her bag and shoves it on over her head. She sits there for awhile, then finally decides that maybe no one is coming to get her. So she stands up and approaches the edge, hoping to catch someones attention. It works, as a red blur paces back and forth, looks up, and then streaks its way into the school.

  


A few minutes later, there is a kick, and a clink as the quarter becomes dislodged. Jane stands in the doorway, furious.

  


Jane: What the hell do you think you're doing, up on the school roof at night!? You had me freaked! I nearly had a coronary!

  


Daria: (weakly) Sorry. Those damn goths locked me up here. With a quarter, no less.

  


She points at the quarter. Jane picks it up; it's bent. She begins to snicker, and then fully laughs. She walks over to Daria and slaps her on the shoulder. Then she sniffs the air, and then her hand. A shocked look comes over her face.

  


Jane: (angry again) And you were smoking weed, too, weren't you? Thought you could smoke your sorrows away?

  


Daria: (amiably) It's those damn goths, they just spoiled my day. (normal) No, seriously, they were smoking over on the other side of the roof. I didn't know it was weed.

  


Jane: How could you not know what weed smells like?

  


Daria: Well, I never smoked it before, and I don't hang out at places where it is smoked, so I couldn't tell it from a cigar.

  


Jane: The innocent girl strikes again! C'mon, let's get you off this roof.

  


Daria: (worried) Does Dad know I was missing?

  


Jane: Nah, he called me asking where you were. I sniffed trouble (and so much more, wink wink), so I told him you were staying with me for the night. And when we get to my house, the first thing we're doing is washing those clothes. And I think a shower is in order, too. Knowing Jake, he probably smoked a few, so he'll recognize the smell immediately.

  


She and Daria walk out the roof's door.

  
  


End Act II

Act III  
Scene I

Int. Jane's room. Daria and Jane walk through the door, and Daria dumps her stuff by the closet. Jane roots through her clothes and comes up with shorts, a tee shirt, and a towel.

  


Jane: There's soap and shampoo in the shower. Dump your clothes outside the door before you shower so I can get them clean. Make sure to wash your hair twice. Hurry, hurry.

  


Daria heads out into the hall, locates the bathroom, and locks the door after her. After a moment, her clothes land in a pile in the hall. The tell-tale 'click' of the lock doesn't finish. Jane hasn't come to get her stuff yet.

  


Trent walks out of his room, ignoring the clothes on the floor. He opens the bathroom door, shuts it behind him, and begins to pee.

  


Daria: (muffled; from behind the shower curtain) Trent, I'm not Jane.

  


Trent: (uh-oh; shoulda knocked first) Uh, sorry about that.

  


He finishes up and locks the door after himself. In the hall, he notices her clothes on the floor. He looks around quickly before picking up her bra. He flips it to the back and looks at the tag.

  


Trent: (thinking) 34 D! How does she manage to hide that?

  


He drops the bra and looks through the rest of the pile, coming up with a strange looking piece of elastic. He turns to the back and sees a tag, which reads "Back brace. For scoliosis patients only. Do not wash."

  


Trent: (thinking) Well, THAT explains a lot.

  


He puts it back and picks up her jacket. He looks around once more, and then inhales deeply, hoping to catch a whiff of Daria. Instead, he pulls back, looking shocked at the nosefull of weed vapors he got.

  


Trent: (thinking) Crap. Now I'm curious about the weed. But I can't ask her because she'll think I'm a perv for smelling her clothes. Ah, I know.

  


He picks it all up and walks over to Jane's room. She's painting a picture of Daria with zany eyes.

  


Trent: Janey, do these need washing? They look like Daria's.

  


Jane: That's who they belong to, ya goof. Yeah, they do. You wanna take care of it? I'm in the middle of a painting, here.

  


Trent: Sure, whatever.

  


He makes a show of looking at each tag. Jane looks at him, annoyed.

  


Jane: What are you doing now?

  


Trent: I'm checkin the tags, what's it look like? Maybe this stuff has to be dry-cleaned. Like this.

  


He sets the brace down on a table. Jane looks over uncuriously.

  


Trent: Hmm. Some kind of brace. For scoli-whasis or something. It says not to wash it.

  


Jane just shrugs a bit. She goes back to her painting.

  


Jane: Oh, make sure not to put her bra in the dryer. It'll fray up big-time and be uncomfortable. You've ruined three of mine already.

  


Trent picks her bra out of the pile. It's black silk, with a little bit of lace between the cups.

  


Trent: I dunno, this looks kind of expensive. Maybe we should dry-clean it. Or let her wash it herself.

  


Jane looks back up from her painting.

  


Jane: Whoa ho ho! Jeez, you think you know a girl. (proverbially) Never judge a girl until you see her underwear. Unless she's in it. You'll get slapped.

  


Trent just shakes his head and takes all but the brace and the bra downstairs. A few minutes later, Daria comes out of the bathroom. She's wearing the out fit Jane provided, and her hair is wrapped up in the towel. She picks the brace and the bra up off the table and heads back into the bathroom. A minute later, she comes back out, looking considerably more comfortable, and considerably flatter, too. She sits down on the foot of the bed and turns the TV on.

  


Jane: So now Trent knows.

  


Daria: If I could care less, I wouldn't.

  


Trent chooses just that moment to come back from the basement.

  


Trent: Good one, Daria. Um, why did your clothes smell like weed?

  


Daria: Um, on the roof, there were these evil goth chicks, see, and the cotton candy super-gasm puff-puff party kind of got into my clothes. I was actually sitting as far away as possible, reading a book. I may have dozed off for a bit. They locked me up there and Jane rescued me. (pause; sarcasm) My knight in shining armor.

  


Trent: Oh. (thinks for a moment; snickers) Nice bra.

  


He heads off to his room. Daria burries her face in her hands.

  


Jane: Guys. Once they see your underwear, they think they can walk right over you. Damn, rotten males.

  


Scene II

Ext. Lawndale, Glenn Oaks Lane. Daria is walking home. The sky is cloudy, and a few leaves blow by. Daria sighs as she approaches her house.

  


Daria: (thinking) Well, now the friendship with Jane is back. (pause) And with some unneccessary added teasing, but oh, well. Still, what if Tom presses the issue? What would I say? What If I say yes? What would happen between me and Jane? She doesn't know anything about us, if we're dating or not. Jeez, I never knew this stuff could be so complicated. Well, at least there's only a week of school left. But still...

  


She shakes her head to clear in and walks in. Jake is on the couch with the newspaper. Daria shuts the door and heads upstairs.

  


Jake: Huh? I missed something, didn't I?

  


Helen: (from the kitchen) Hmmm?

  


Jake: Oh, nothing. Cost of living in Guatemala is going down.

  


Helen: (dismissive) That's nice dear. Did you pick up anything for dinner?

  


Jake: I thought we could order something in. I don't feel like cooking tonight.

  


Helen: As soon as I get a break, I'll ask Quinn and Daria what they want.

  


Jake: Daria's at her friend Jane's house.

  


Helen: She just walked through the door not five minutes ago!

  


Jake: I- I know! I was joking, hon! It was a joke!

  


Helen: No, it wasn't.

  


Jake: (melancholy) No, your right. (perks up) Hey, free webcame. (pause) Lousy fine PRINT!

  


Helen sighs.

  


Scene III

Int. Lawndale High, morning. It appears to be the last day of school, as students are emptying their lockers, throwing trash away, and checking books into the bookrooms. Daria presses the reset button inside her locker and slams the door shut for the summmer.

  


Daria: Good riddance.

  


Jane: To bad rubbish! How are ya, friend? (teasing) Still freaked from that little incident with Trent and the bathroom?

  


Daria: (aw, hell; lame voice) He told you?

  


Jane: Of course, Daria. He's my brother. He tells me everything embarassing he sees people doing. (chipper) Especially if they're my best friend!

  


Daria: I'm starting to wish I hadn't reset my locker. I need a place to store my head after the door cuts it off.

  


Jane: That's the spirit, amiga! We're off for the summer!

  


Her outburst causes people to turn. At her scowl, they quickly turn back. Jane smiles a cheesy grin and takes Daria's arm.

  


Daria: (flat) There are endless possibilities. The summer is ours for the taking. History is unwritten. ("do something crazy" voice from TBH) Psychopaths haven't been committed.

  


Jodie, who has walked up long enough to catch Daria's speech, laughs.

  


Jodie: Listen, Daria, as an alternative to psychopathy, I was wondering if you might like to take an intership at congressman Sack's office. (downbeat) Or help out at the soup kitchen. (lowest of the low) Or take my golf lessons for me?

  


Daria: Glad to see I'm not the only one having fun this summer. No, actually, I wast thinking of spending some of my savings on a private vacation for a few weeks. Or maybe making a down payment on that luxurious summer home I wanted. Or a shack in bear-infested woods?

  


Jodie: Gotcha. I'm really down about this summer. My parents are making me do everything they wanted to do; to have all the opportunities that they didn't have. And that I don't want. I wish they'd just ask my freaking opinion beforet they sign me up for this crap!

  


Jane: Whoa, Jodie, as much as we'd like to help you, well, um....

  


Daria: (flatter than ever) Emotional outbursts really just aren't are "thang." (sincere) However, if you need to vent, why not try Ms. Manson? She'd listen, try to help, it gets you out of class, and it's free. (pause; sarcasm) Or go vent to Mr. O'Neill.

  


Jane: A truely evil plan, amiga. See you 'round, Jodie!

  


Daria and Jane wave goodbye and walk arm in arm out of the school doors. Neither one knows what's going to happen that summer, but both of them know it's gonna be good.

  
  


The End

Evil criticism would be appreciated, as this is my first fanfic, and took me only a few hours to write (read: six, cumulatively). Feedback can be sent to [uhhhhhh_nooo@hotmail.com][1]

   [1]: mailto:uhhhhhh_nooo@hotmail.com



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